


Burnt

by Emperor



Category: Off
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:49:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emperor/pseuds/Emperor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An Elsen encounters a ghost of Dedan's former kindness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt

The specter closes in on him, all black eyes and crooked teeth.

He scuttles backwards, but he barely manages to get anywhere before his trembling hand encounters the barn’s metal wall. He is trapped. He has nowhere to go. He doesn’t want to die.

The Elsen clenches his eyes shut as he feels the change coming on. A thin trail of black oozes from his mouth and trickles down his chin. It lands on the surface of his white shirt, staining it with flecks of darkness. No, no, he does not want to become Burnt. He must stay calm. He must not give in. He takes a deep breath. Black smoke leaks from between his blunt teeth. His head pounds, feeling as though it might explode.

The specter is still there, still coming closer. If he doesn’t become Burnt first, it is going to kill him. He is going to die. He doesn’t want to die. Not yet, not yet, not yet.

A weak cry escapes his aching throat, and his vision is so blurred with tears that he fails to see the specter dissipate before him, vanquished by a formidable assailant. He still believes he is going to die. Or worse, become Burnt and destroy everything that crosses his path until someone mercifully puts him down. This is the end and it is pitiful, miserable, not the way he ever wished to –

Strong hands grip his shoulders, squeezing so tightly that it hurts. “Calm the fuck down.”

Somewhere amidst the Elsen’s foggy, panic-stricken thoughts, he recognizes the gruff voice. The Director? Yes, the Director. What was his name again? Oh, Dedan. It was Dedan. Dedan is the Director.

And he must be very angry with me, for I could not take care of the specters alone, the Elsen thinks as a whole new wave of panic crashes down on him.

His eyes roll back in his head, pain throbs through his skull. He is going to become Burnt, he just knows it. He can feel it lapping at his sanity, draining him. The stress. The pressure. It is all too much to bear.

“Didn’t I tell you to calm down?” Dedan sounds frustrated but sincere, as though his main concern is making sure the Elsen calms down. It is strange, so very strange. The Elsen is sure Dedan should be furious, but it seems he is not.

The Elsen opens his watery eyes, and through the shimmering veil of tears he can make out the lanky form of Dedan crouching in front of him. Dedan usually frightens the Elsen. He usually finds himself terrified by the man’s towering stature and impressive set of teeth. But now he just wants to become calm, to escape from the panic and the fear of becoming Burnt. He just wishes for someone to hold him, to reassure him that everything is going to be alright.

Before he knows it, he has walked forward and buried his sweat-slicked face into Dedan’s bare chest. It comforts him immediately to be pressed against the tall man’s body, to feel the strength of Dedan’s solid muscles against him, strong enough to take on even the most deadly of specters. He takes a deep, shaky breath, drawing in the scent of Dedan’s sharp cologne which drowns out the unpleasant odors of the barn. The Elsen’s hands reach up and grip the lapels of Dedan’s long coat. He doesn’t want to let go of Dedan. He feels secure and protected, as though, if he stays here, snuggled against Dedan, he will remain safe forever.

The clarity of calmness suddenly returns to him, and he swallows thickly in horror, realizing what he’s doing and who he’s doing it to. The dark thunderheads of panic momentarily return, but they quickly fade away when Dedan’s bony hands gently push the Elsen away. Dedan says nothing, acting as though nothing conspired between them at all.

The Elsen wants to thank Dedan – knows he should thank Dedan – but he is so awe-struck and tongue-tied that he can only stare up stupidly as the Guardian returns to his full height.

“Shit, I thought you were never going to calm down.” He straightens his lapels, grumbling in annoyance at their now disheveled state. “Now get back to work. I got this place all cleaned out now, so there ain’t any reason for you to slack off on the job.”

He stalks off, and just as he reaches the exit, the Elsen finds his tongue. “M-Mister Dedan?”

Dedan halts and turns stiffly. “What is it now?”

“Thank you.” The Elsen rarely smiles, but he smiles then, for he can’t help but feel a peculiar warmth bloom in his chest as he looks at Dedan.

Dedan stands there for a moment, staring at the Elsen in silence, an unreadable expression adorning his severe features. Then, with a roll of his black-rimmed eyes, he scoffs and leaves.


End file.
